Don't Speak
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: In the heat of the Wizarding War, Fleur has a secret that she is struggling to keep.


**WC:** 1,250

 **Written for:**

\- QLFC Round 5: We have 12 magical boxes filled with 8 different prompts; one of which must be used by each team member. Each box has an overall theme. Someone from your team must come and claim a box. I will then send out the list of prompts. / Chosen prompt: (location) Hogsmeade

\- Chocolate Frog Card Club: Yaxley (Challenge) - Your story must focus on the time that Voldemort had control of the Ministry.

* * *

Fleur hitched her cloak tighter around her neck as she pushed open the door to the Hog's Head. It was imperative that no one recognised her during these dark times—but not only because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had control of the Ministry, but because of the dangerous game she was playing.

If anyone spotted where she was going—or more importantly, who she was going to see—things would not end well.

Keeping her hood over her face, she bypassed the bearded bartender and headed for the stairwell which led to the few rooms above, which Aberforth Dumbledore rented out. She knew which room she was headed for; it was the same room every week, Number Three. She had one of the ornate silver keys in her hand which would unlock the door.

Aberforth didn't question her when she had requested to rent out that room. She was sure he might recognise her, as she and Bill had ventured inside the grim little pub in Hogsmeade on many occasions—but whether he did or not, he didn't say. And that was fine by Fleur.

If she had chosen the Three Broomsticks, the old wench behind the bar, Madam Rosmerta, would've most definitely let the cat out of the bag.

She pressed her forehead against the cold wooden door. Taking a deep breath, Fleur slid the heavy key into the lock and pushed open the door. _This was it._ This was the last time she would be doing this.

oOo

Bill watched a teaspoon absent-mindedly as it stirred itself clockwise in his cup of tea. He was alone again, sitting at his kitchen table at Shell Cottage and wondering where his new wife had gotten to.

It was the worst time for her to be running around the streets, but no matter how much he tried to warn her, Fleur just didn't listen. She was stubborn and wild, and there was just no holding her down when she had things to do. No amount of Death Eaters could stop her.

Bill had pleaded with her, _begged_ her to remain indoors unless they were going to his parents' house. After all, she was a Weasley now, and that name was tarnished amongst Death Eaters. They wouldn't hesitate to snatch Fleur off the streets and use her as a hostage, given the opportunity.

He reached for his teacup and took a long, grateful sip. _'If only I had one of those clocks like Mum's,'_ he thought to himself.

A sudden knock on the patio window startled him so much that he spilled his tea all over the table. He ignored the mess, hurrying to the door to unlock it. His mother walked through the door, a smile on her otherwise downcast, sickly features. She carried a large basket of bread, fruit, and vegetables in her arms.

Bill exchanged a hug and a kiss with his mother, as was compulsory these days. She feared for each and every one of her children's lives, and she deemed it necessary to have a large show of affection whenever she greeted or said goodbye to any of them. When Bill had calmed her down and thanked her for the food basket, she sat opposite him at the table and squeezed his hands.

"How are you doing, Bill?" she asked, her warm brown eyes seeming to stare right into him. He had never, ever been able to lie to his mother. She could always tell when there was something wrong.

Bill looked away, biting his bottom lip. "It's Fleur," he mumbled, staring down at their clasped hands before looking back up at Molly. "She _insisted_ on going into Hogsmeade this morning. I tried to stop her; I even said I'd go with her, but she wanted to be on her own. She knows that the place is infested with Death Eaters these days, but she wouldn't listen." He took a breath and closed his eyes, fearing that he would start crying if he continued to look at his mother. "I'm so worried, Mum. What if something dreadful has happened to her?"

"Hogsmeade?" Molly repeated, and she released a small chuckle when Bill nodded. "Well, Charlie's in Hogsmeade. Why don't we go down there and see him? Then, we can look for her together. He might have spotted her."

"Charlie's home?" Bill replied, blinking. "That's great!" He hadn't seen his brother since the wedding, as he had apparated straight back to Romania the minute the Death Eaters had begun to infiltrate the Burrow.

Molly smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. Bill couldn't help but notice that this was the happiest he'd seen her since the wedding. Having all of her children in the same country must have helped.

oOo

"Zis 'as to stop," Fleur breathed, as Charlie littered kisses across her collarbone. Her breath hitched in her throat as his lips focused on one particular area, suckling the sensitive spot gently. She pulled away, grasping him firmly by the face so that she could look into his eyes. "Listen to me, Charlie."

Charlie had a burning desire in his warm, brown eyes, and it took every inch of Fleur's willpower not to tackle him back onto the bed. His shaggy, red hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration, and the same sheen of sweat glistened across his toned, naked torso. Fleur pursed her lips tightly, concentrating on more important things—like her marriage.

"I just can't stop this!" Charlie replied in a loud whisper, threading his fingers through Fleur's tresses of blonde hair. She arched her head into his hand and closed her eyes, sighing. "Fleur… I love you. I've _always_ loved you. There are ways around this, you know…"

Her blue eyes flickered open, and she looked at him sternly. "No, 'zer is not," she responded quietly. "Zis country is in 'ze middle of a war, and we are doing 'zis. Imagine 'ow Bill would feel if 'e found out. We 'ave only just got married!"

Charlie tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. "But this is…this is what's right, Fleur." His voice was like the devil on her shoulder; a sneaky, devious little creature that was intent on pulling her towards him. "Doesn't this feel right?" He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then to the corner of her lips, and then finally, he captured them in his, kissing her passionately. Fleur moaned into his mouth, but she didn't stop him.

A sudden knock on the door broke them apart, and they froze, staring at each other.

"Who is it?" Charlie called, trying to keep any trace of emotion out of his voice. Fleur prayed that it was just Aberforth coming up to ask for a payment on the room. Her heart sank when a familiar female voice replied.

"It's me, sweetie," Molly Weasley shouted through the wood. "I've come down with Bill. He's looking for Fleur in Hogsmeade, so I wondered if you might have seen he.." She rattled the doorknob, which was thankfully locked. "Let us in, dear."

Fleur stood up from the bed quickly. "I 'ave to go," she whispered. "Charlie, 'zis is 'ze last time I will see you… like 'zis." Her face was sombre, but Charlie didn't reflect her expression. Instead, a knowing, cheeky grin plastered across his face.

"If you say so, gorgeous," he muttered, reaching across the bed to grab his shirt.

Fleur shook her head angrily, before turning on the spot to Disapparate. There was just no way she would ever get through to him.


End file.
